


la douleur exquise

by tatoeba



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatoeba/pseuds/tatoeba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol composes a wedding song for his best friend, Jongin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	la douleur exquise

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/chankaiprompts/status/709509130113851393) prompt. sometimes u just need to write some angst to get through the day.

 

“It’s nice,” Baekhyun says, giving the pages one last look over before he glances up at Chanyeol. “I like it.”

“Just _nice_?” Chanyeol says, snatching the sheets from him with a frown. “It can’t just be nice, it’s--”

“Important, I know,” Baekhyun says with a heavy sigh. Now that he’s not holding Chanyeol’s sheet music in his hands, he crosses his arms over his shoulders and pins Chanyeol with an equally heavy look. “I still don’t understand why you’re even doing this.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Chanyeol says, furrowing his brows as he stares at the pages instead of Baekhyun. He’s been staring at them for so long it’s like all the little notes have started blurring together. That’s why he called Baekhyun over for assistance in the first place, but now he’s beginning to regret the decision.

“You’re writing a song for a wedding you’re not even in!”

“What’re you saying, I’m the best man,” Chanyeol says. He gives Baekhyun a confused look but is only met with something akin to pity. Chanyeol swallows and returns his gaze quickly to the song he’s been writing.

“Yes, you are,” Baekhyun says placatingly. “The best man of the groom you’re hopelessly in love with.”

Chanyeol winces. His shoulders turn tense and the pages in his hands get a little rumpled at the edges where he’s holding them too tightly out of reflex. “I--well, that’s--” He struggles to explain, to not dig himself into a hole, but Baekhyun’s known about his feelings for a long time. Most of his friends do, actually. Just not the one that matters. He swallows again and sets the papers onto his keyboard, tries to smooth down the sides. “Jongin asked and I--”

“You couldn’t say no,” Baekhyun sighs. “You _could_ have said no. You should have said no. What were you thinking?”

“That I just wanted to make him happy?” Chanyeol admits quietly. “And if writing a song for his wedding will do that then…”

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says and when Chanyeol looks back over at him, his expression is kind of pained. “This is really sad. You’re making me sad. Me. I don’t like being sad.”

“Then just tell me how to make this song better and you can leave,” Chanyeol says, even though he’s cracked a little smile at Baekhyun’s comment. Chanyeol, too, is sad, but he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it. He can’t write a beautiful, meaningful, happy love song if he’s depressed. He wants this song to be the best thing he’s ever written. For Jongin.

Baekhyun squints at him for a long moment, as if deciding if this is worth his time. Maybe Chanyeol looks extra pitiful because he eventually groans and throws his hands up in the air. “Give me that,” he says, reaching out for the music again. “I’m only helping because I can’t let you embarrass yourself further by presenting Jongin with a totally lame song at his goddamn wedding.”

Chanyeol smiles as he hands over the sheets again. “Thanks, Baekhyun,” he says, and turns back to the keyboard to work.

 

 

Six months ago, Jongin had met with Chanyeol for lunch. It was early December, and he was wearing a cute peacoat and a beanie, and his hair stuck out everywhere when he popped it off inside the restaurant. Chanyeol remembers laughing, reaching out with ease to pat it all down, and Jongin, smiling brilliantly, had smacked his hands away in amusement as they found a table to claim as their own. They’d barely just ordered when Jongin had said, eyes bright, that Taemin had proposed.

Thinking back to it these days, when Chanyeol sits at his keyboard and tries to write, or looks into the mirror and sees the dark circles under his eyes from nights of fitful sleep, haunted a little by Jongin’s smile and the ring on his finger, the impending ceremony that Chanyeol will have to endure, standing at Jongin’s side but not being the one to exchange vows, he’s not entirely sure how he made it through the rest of that day. Everything has become a bit of a blur. It’s like all his own emotions shut down, left behind a shell of himself, sitting at the table across from Jongin, and forcing a smile on his face, over the top excitement for his friend’s upcoming marriage.

He remembers Jongin asking him to be his best man, how he’d reached across the table for his hand and said so seriously, “There’s no one else it could be, but you,” and Chanyeol remembers saying, “Of course, anything you want,” like he’s always done, like it was second nature, like the very prospect of this position didn’t tear him into two.

And maybe that’s why, two months later, Jongin sought him out again to ask if Chanyeol wouldn’t mind writing a song for them. Something to play at the reception. Something nice that he and Taemin could dance to.

“You could dance to anything,” Chanyeol remembers telling him with a laugh he hopes wasn’t strained to Jongin’s eyes.

“So you’ll do it?” Jongin asked, and Chanyeol, there was never anyway he could’ve said no. Not to Jongin. Not ever.

Jongin’s wedding is in three weeks. Chanyeol has spent the past three months staring at the keys on his keyboard, the strings of his guitar, and the blank pages upon pages of sheet music trying to figure out how to put every ounce of love he’s built up for his best friend into a three-minute song. Into something that wouldn’t give everything he’s ever felt away to the one person he no longer has any chance with. He can’t have Jongin knowing now, not now, not when he’s happy, bubbling with so much excitement and nervous energy, not when Chanyeol’s seen the way he looks at Taemin. Chanyeol had once hoped he’d be able to have that look all for himself, but Chanyeol waited too long and now there’s no going back.

All he has is years of love that he’s painstakingly transforming into lyrics, into a soft, easy melody that he can picture Jongin dancing to so beautifully, the way he dances to everything. There’s too much of it, too many feelings, too many memories, and it hasn’t been easy to sort out the things he can say with the things he most definitely cannot, trying to write this song that’s not about him and Jongin, but about Jongin and his new love, his new life.

“You should’ve said no,” Baekhyun said to him, and Kyungsoo, too, when he comes over for dinner the week before the wedding, with boxes of pizza and a grim expression on his face.

“No one’s died,” Chanyeol tried to laugh it off, but Kyungsoo gave him a look as if he wanted to beg differently, like Chanyeol doesn’t know that maybe his heart is a little dead, lying at his feet and stomped on constantly with every reminder that his best friend, the love of his life, is soon to be entirely out of his reach.

Chanyeol should’ve said no. Should’ve called Jongin up months ago and said he couldn’t do it, that he was too busy, that he wasn’t inspired, that it was so hard because he’s been in love with him for so long that it physically hurts to write a song like this.

Instead, Chanyeol’s pushed through it. Maybe it’s meant to be his penance for waiting so long, for never coming clean. Maybe it’s to help him cope with the feelings he’s left inside for all this time and to cope with what’s happening. Or maybe he’s gone through with it as his last attempt, the only declaration of love he can ever give to Jongin, who might never even know. In a twisted way, Chanyeol is okay with that. Jongin doesn’t have to know how he feels, but Chanyeol thinks he can deal with all of this so much more knowing that he’s said his piece, even if it’s just to himself.

He finishes the song at four in the morning, two days before the wedding. He sings the lyrics over quietly to himself as he cleans the mess he’s made of his apartment, throwing out the ripped up pages of previous versions, the beer bottles that have accumulated on the coffee table. He hums the tune as he falls into bed, stares up at the ceiling and thinks about Jongin’s smiling face.

He titles it _Forelsket_.

 

 

 

“How do I look?” Jongin asks, catching Chanyeol’s eye in the mirror before he turns around with a flourish, throws his arms out wide.

Chanyeol licks his lips, drinks the sight of him in. “Perfect,” he says, honestly, and crooks a smile when Jongin laughs embarrassedly, swatting at his arm in reprimand. “Except your tie,” he adds on, stepping in closer so he can tug at the mess of a knot at Jongin’s throat. “Who did this?”

“I did,” Jongin pouts, and Chanyeol keeps his eyes steady on the task at hand. It wouldn’t do to get distracted by Jongin’s full mouth. Not today. Never again.

Chanyeol redoes the tie for Jongin, smoothing it down nicely before quickly dropping his hands back to his sides. “There,” he says. “Better.”

Jongin whirls around to check for himself and he grins brightly at his reflection. “Thanks, Chanyeol,” he says. “What would I do without you?”

Chanyeol’s chest tightens at the words, but he’s thankfully spared from having to answer when one of Jongin’s sisters sweeps into the room to check on them. Jongin’s attention easily shifts over and he’s laughing as she fusses over him, patting his cheeks and looking tearful already. It gives Chanyeol enough time to take in a few deep breaths, push aside the lingering heat in his fingertips from touching Jongin earlier.

When he’s gathered himself, he plasters a smile on his face and greets Jongin’s sister, tells her how good she looks. She laughs at him, pinches his cheek, and asks, “Five minutes, okay? You got him?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Chanyeol says, willing himself not to think too much on how he doesn’t, really. “You should go sit down.”

She nods, gives them both a quick hug, and then leaves. The room is silent, Chanyeol can hear the distant chatter from downstairs where all the guests are gathering in the church pews. His heartbeat is picking up, too, louder than everything in his ears, and he tries to push it back.

“Are you nervous?” Jongin asks him suddenly, nudging him in the side and looking curiously at his face.

“Are _you_?” Chanyeol asks, because it’s easier to talk about Jongin, today. Chanyeol doesn’t want to focus on his own conflicted feelings. “You’re the one getting married. Are you worried you’ll drop the ring before you get it on his finger?”

“Don’t say that!” Jongin exclaims, shoving him, and Chanyeol laughs fully for the first time all day. Jongin’s panicked expression melts away as he watches him, replaced by that soft smile of his that Chanyeol so desperately loves. “Ah, there it is,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol feels his heart stop in his chest when he reaches up to poke Chanyeol’s cheek. “Your smile. You’ve been so subdued all day.”

“Have I?” Chanyeol coughs, hoping he doesn’t look guilty. He’s certainly felt subdued all day but he didn’t think Jongin had noticed.

“Yeah, that’s the first real smile you’ve given me,” Jongin says. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “No, no,” he says, “nothing like that.” He smiles, hopes it’s a real one. “Can’t I be a little emotional that my best friend is getting married? My Jonginnie~ All grown up~”

“Shut up, shut up,” Jongin says, flustered, and Chanyeol laughs honestly again. This, he can do. This is easy. Teasing Jongin, who, above all, is his best friend, this is normal. Expected. He should’ve have let his personal feelings get in the way of that. Despite everything, Chanyeol _is_ happy for Jongin. Happy that Jongin is happy. That should be all that matters today and Chanyeol’s apparently done a terrible job at showing how much he is glad for his friend.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine. Maybe a little nervous about performing later, that’s all.”

“You? Nervous about a performance?” Jongin says, lips quirking in amusement. “That’s rare.”

“Well, it is a special day,” Chanyeol says. “Can’t just wing it.”

“Even if you did, I bet it’d still be amazing,” Jongin says seriously and Chanyeol curls his hands into fists at his side, wishes Jongin wouldn’t say such things anymore. “I’m really looking forward to it, since you’ve been so sneaky about letting me listen.”

“It’s a surprise,” Chanyeol says grandly. “Now, let’s get you married and you’ll be all that closer to hearing it.”

Jongin laughs, nodding, and to Chanyeol’s surprise, steps up and winds his arms around him in a warm hug. “Thanks for everything,” he says into Chanyeol shoulder, and Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut and says nothing.

 

 

Jongin doesn’t drop the ring, but he does cry when Taemin slips the band onto his finger and they kiss softly in front of everyone. Chanyeol thinks he would be crying, too, if he wasn’t standing there to Jongin’s right, trying painfully to keep the smile on his face as he claps along with the rest of the guests. All he feels is a dull numbness, the same kind of feeling he got when Jongin first broke the news of his upcoming marriage.

It’s ten times worse now though, but Chanyeol thinks he’s doing good job of hiding it. Yura, his date for the evening, finds him after the ceremony, giving him a knowing look and a bone-crushing hug that only makes Chanyeol want to cry more. He manages to keep it in somehow, and doesn’t think any of his smiles during the grooms’ party photos afterward are at all fake. He is truly happy for Jongin. He clings to that and nothing else.

Jongin catches him toward the end of the shoot to get one photo with just the two of them, and Chanyeol wraps his arm around Jongin’s waist and throws up his signature peace sign that has Jongin laughing when they part. “You’ll have to get me a copy of that one,” Chanyeol tells him and Jongin nods, squeezes his wrist in promise.

The reception is beautiful, with decorations courtesy of Jongin’s sisters and great music deejaying Jonghyun, one of Taemin’s groomsmen. The liquor is also plentiful and Chanyeol sits at the main table between Jongin and Moonkyu, Jongin’s other groomsman, trying hard not to down glass after glass of wine. Jinki, Taemin’s best man, gives his speech first, doing a very good job of embarrassing his friend and ruffles his hair at the end of it, which has everyone laughing as Taemin turns to Jongin and asks if he still looks good. Chanyeol stares at his plate when Jongin reaches up and fixes his hair for him, leans in close to press a kiss to his lips.

In the midst of writing Jongin’s song, Chanyeol didn’t give himself much time to think about a best man’s speech. Jongin had told him he didn’t have to, that the song would be more than enough, that Moonkyu could speak instead, but Chanyeol waved him off, said he couldn’t pass up on his best man duties like that. So he stands, gazes out at the crowd, sees his sister at a table close to the front beside Baekhyun and Sehun. Yura grins at him and Chanyeol smiles back, turns to Jongin at his left and looks down at him, and says, “First, I want to congratulate Jongin and Taemin on this special day, and thank them for including me in it. Also, for the open bar.”

The crowd laughs and Jongin smacks him in the side, but he’s grinning, too. Taemin has a hand on Jongin’s thigh, but he’s also smiling up at Chanyeol, looking amused. Chanyeol ploughs on. “Jongin’s been my best friend since we were kids. He accidently kicked a soccer ball into my face and _he_ was the one that ended up crying, even though I had the bloody nose.” More laughter and Jongin with his cheeks flushed pink. He’s so beautiful, and Chanyeol loves him so much.

“I told him I’d forgive him if he’d stop crying, and he did. Eventually,” Chanyeol says, and he’s smiling more himself at the memory. His chest aches but he’s starting to think he can get through this. “He might’ve cried earlier today at the ceremony, and I probably shirked my best man duties by not having a handkerchief with me or something, but I guess it all worked out because Taemin didn’t complain. But maybe he’s into salty kisses? I wouldn’t know.”

Jongin is laughing again, and Chanyeol focuses on that. “Over the years I’ve seen Jongin cry over puppies and One Piece and Iron Man comics, but I’m glad to say that ever since he and Taemin have been together, there’s been nothing but laughter and smiles. I’m glad to be standing here next to my best friend and seeing him look so happy, because that’s what I want the most for him. For the both of them. So I hope that the two of you will continue to be together lovingly, happily, supporting each other through all the good and the bad.”

Chanyeol reaches out for his glass to toast, and everyone follows suit. “To Jongin and Taemin, may your future be bright and full of life.” He lifts his glass to his mouth, pauses, and adds with a little teasing smirk, “Oh, and Taemin, if you ever do make Jongin cry for something not related to cute puppies or comic books, just know I might have to punch you.”

Everyone laughs again, even Taemin, as he lifts his glass toward Chanyeol before drinking. Chanyeol downs his glass and slips back into his seat feeling drained. He’s barely set his glass down onto the table before Jongin is leaning into him, an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug.

“Did you really have to bring up me crying?” he asks petulantly, and Chanyeol grins as he pokes Jongin’s nose.

“Of course,” he says. “What else is a best friend good for if not talking about your worst moments in front of a crowd?”

“You’re the worst,” Jongin declares, but his eyes are amused as he pulls back. “I’m demoting you. Moonkyu’s my new best man.”

“Liar,” Chanyeol says, squeezing Jongin’s knee. “You love me.”

It comes out easily, the way it always has between them, but today it feels wrong. It’s too late to take back though, and Jongin laughs the way he always does. “I do,” he says, and Chanyeol’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know,” Chanyeol says, letting his hand drop from Jongin’s knee. “I know.”

 

 

 

After dinner and the cake-cutting, Chanyeol settles down at the piano in the corner of the room to play. He’s practiced plenty in the past few days that he doesn’t think he needs the sheet music, but he sets it up all the same just in case. Baekhyun wanders over to help him set up the mic and squeezes his shoulders encouragingly.

“That was a nice speech you gave up there,” he says. “I’m amazed you’ve managed to keep it together.”

“I’m on my best behavior tonight,” Chanyeol says and when Baekhyun looks at him doubtfully, he reaches up to swipe his fingers across the back of Baekhyun’s neck where he’s sensitive. Baekhyun squeals and runs off and Chanyeol heaves a deep, slow breath.

Taemin and Jongin are out on the dance floor, a few people have gathered at the sides to watch and take video or photos. Chanyeol catches Jongin’s eye over Taemin’s shoulder and Jongin gives him a supportive thumbs up which is just what he needs.

He settles his hands over the keys, closes his eyes and plays. A few beats into the song, he starts to sing, too, remembering all the words he’d painstakingly written and rewritten over the past few months and he really didn’t need the sheet music afterall. Everything is etched into his heart instead, every line, word and note, the smooth, graceful melody that he knows is just right for Jongin. He pictures him dancing behind his closed eyes, imagines his beautiful body, the smile that will stretch across his face from the pure happiness of dancing. His eyes are probably closed, too, because nothing matters more than the music and the passion, and Chanyeol wishes he could see, but at the same time thinks maybe it’s better this way. He’s not the one dancing with Jongin today.

In the end, Chanyeol isn’t safe from tears either. He feels them pooling behind his eyelids, his vision a little blurry when he finally opens them up again as he reaches the last line. His voice catches, too, there, as he finishes, and his hands are trembling when he finally lifts them from the keys. There’s a ringing silence in his ears, louder than even his frantic heartbeat, but then the applause comes and Chanyeol breathes again.

He discreetly wipes at his face with his hand before anyone can tell he’s been crying, and he stands with a grin, thanking everyone for the support. Jongin is staring at him from the middle of the dance floor, but Chanyeol finds he can’t look at him anymore.

As Jonghyun starts up the next song and guests file onto the dance floor to join the grooms, Chanyeol slips out of the reception hall, the ache in his chest suddenly unbearable.

He makes it all the way outside into cool evening air before he breaks, crouched down against the side of the building with his head in his hands as the heartache finally, truly gets to him. He’s done all he can since the announcement to push it all back, to bottle it up and focus on still being there for Jongin, his best friend. He put everything into that song, all his love, all the anguish, and yet it wasn’t enough to stave off the pain.

And maybe he should’ve taken the time to deal with this all properly because right now is the worst time for it all to come crashing down. The last thing Chanyeol wants is for anyone, especially Jongin, to see him like this.

He lets himself wallow for as long as he can stand, which isn’t as long as he would probably like, before finally rubbing the tears off his face and wandering back inside. He stops at the restrooms to freshen up, avoiding the mirror as he splashes water onto his face and dries off with paper towels.

“You can do this, Park,” he whispers to himself, eyes clenched shut as he takes in steady breaths. “Just a little longer. The worst is over.”

Except he runs into Jongin the moment he leaves and he thinks that maybe the world is playing a cruel, cruel joke on him. “There you are,” Jongin says, looking relieved. “I was looking for you. Where’d you go?”

“Ah, I just needed some air,” Chanyeol says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s up? Did you need me for something?”

“Well, no, I just--” Jongin pauses, squints at Chanyeol curiously. His gaze lingers on Chanyeol’s eyes and Chanyeol hopes that it isn’t obvious he’d just spent the past fifteen minutes crying. Thankfully, all Jongin says is, “I wanted to thank you about the song but you disappeared.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says. “Don’t worry about it. You asked, and I said I’d write something.”

“Yes, but it was beautiful, Chanyeol,” Jongin says, and there’s genuine admiration in his voice. “I had no idea what to expect, since you were being all secretive, but it was amazing. You sounded amazing.”

Chanyeol feels himself heat up and he chuckles awkwardly, unsure how to deal with this in light of everything. “Thanks, Jongin,” he says. “All I wanted was for you to like it.”

“I did,” Jongin says, nodding enthusiastically. “I hope you have it recorded because I want to hear it again.”

“Shh, you’re not supposed to guess your own wedding gift,” Chanyeol teases, and Jongin giggles adorably, the kind of laugh that would have Chanyeol reaching over to ruffle his hair or hug him just because. He can’t do that so easily anymore. He shoves his hands into his pockets instead.

“You’ve done so much for me today, Chanyeol,” Jongin says softly. “I don’t even know how I could thank you.”

Jongin’s gratitude makes him feel small, selfish. Chanyeol’s been thinking too much about himself, throwing a pity party for something that is no one’s fault but his own. He pulls a hand out of his pocket to tug Jongin into a one-armed sort of hug, patting his back reassuringly. “Jongin, you don’t have to thank me,” he says. “I’m your best friend. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” That, despite everything, is true. Chanyeol might need a little space, to get over Jongin, to let his heart heal, but he could never cut Jongin out of his life. Chanyeol doesn’t think he could ever live with that.

“I know, but still,” Jongin says, pouting, and Chanyeol laughs a little as he pulls away.

“Well, if you really want to pay me back, I know this great place you can treat me to dinner someday,” Chanyeol offers and Jongin grins as he takes the bait.

“You’re on,” he says. “Just tell me when.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol agrees, and as Jongin smiles up at him, for a moment, it feels like maybe everything will be alright afterall.

A familiar voice calls out for Jongin then, and Chanyeol looks over to find Taemin heading in their direction. He’s lost the jacket of his suit sometime since Chanyeol last saw him but he fits easily into Jongin’s side like he was always meant to belong there, and not Chanyeol. But Chanyeol pushes that thought back as quickly as it comes because he doesn’t want to do that, doesn’t want to compare them. None of it matters anymore.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, holding a hand out for Taemin to shake. “I don’t think I ever properly congratulated you.”

Taemin takes his hand and grins. “No need, no need. You’ve done plenty to show your support,” he says.

“I was just telling him that,” Jongin says, smiling over at his husband. The word aches, but Chanyeol focuses on Jongin’s smile instead and that makes it bearable.

“Good,” Taemin says approvingly. “Did you have some cake, Chanyeol? There’s a whole bunch leftover so we’re gonna have to pawn it off.”

“Well, guess I better help out with that,” Chanyeol says, amused. “Shouldn’t the two of you be back in there dancing the night away? What kind of married couple are you?”

“A tired one,” they say at the same time, then look at each other and loudly laugh. Chanyeol can’t help but smile back as he watches them, sees the clear love in their eyes. “You’re right though,” Taemin adds, sliding his arm from Jongin’s waist to instead take his hand. “We should head back.”

“Alright,” Jongin says. He glances at Chanyeol. “You coming?”

“I’ll be right there,” he says, waves them off. Chanyeol watches them leave, pretending to check some messages on his phone, and waits until they’ve long since disappeared inside before he returns to the hall as well. He stops at the bar for a drink, then settles down in the empty chair next to Kyungsoo instead of sitting back at the head table. On the dance floor he can see Baekhyun dancing with Yura, and his sister keeps reprimanding him for stepping on her toes. Sehun is talking with Moonkyu in the corner and they both have mischievous looks on their faces that can only mean they’re up to no good. Chanyeol chuckles as he lifts his glass to his lips and takes a drink, and Kyungsoo turns to him with a raised brow.

“You okay?” he asks, and Chanyeol knows he’s asking about more than just right now, this moment.

He’s not sure if he’s okay. He’s hurting, and he thinks it will all continue to hurt for awhile. But he looks out over at Jongin, sees his bright smile, and thinks he can deal with the hurt as long as he can still be by his side. Maybe, in a few months, it will hurt less, and maybe, in a few years, it will just be a dull ache, a reminiscent longing of a lost love. Today, though, Chanyeol will put on a brave face and pretend.

“I will be,” is all he says, and that, in the end, is all he can hope for now.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. forelsket: (n.) the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love
> 
> 2\. i literally just wrote this whole thing today so im sorry if there are any little mistakes
> 
> 3\. im sorry chanyeol
> 
> 4\. bye
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](http://twitter.com/xingkais) | [ask.fm](http://ask.fm/koiyake) | [tumblr](http://koiyake.tumblr.com)


End file.
